Thursday, January 25, 2007

Lessons in patience

Originally posted on MySpace blog on 12/28/06:

I don't really like checking up on the Academy's page (on MySpace). I didn't really like going to the Academy, to be perfectly honest. That's not to say it didn't have it's good times. It did, but I was mostly dissappointed about the way things turned out. I don't know if it was because it was the first time I was living on my own, or if I was no longer a big fish in a little pond (I'd like to think not, but I still wonder). Mostly, I think it was the attitude of the whole place. It just felt so very competitive and negative. Everyone was looking for the bad traits in everyone else. Everyone was so quick to point out why you were a bad actor. It was productive, but so very limiting. I learned a lot about acting, but practically nothing about being an actor, if that makes sense.
So, I went on their page, today ('cause sometimes I'm a sucker). I went to my year of graduation, and I found several people I knew. Some of them are my friends, already. Some of them I should be keeping in touch with, but don't for one reason or another (we ended up on opposite sides of the fence, and I'm still afraid to peek through a board). Some of them I just never got along with, which happens. And some of them are doing exactly what they set out to do, and it bums me out. Not because... well, yes, because I'm not. I'm not perfect, and I'll be the first to admit it. But, to quote Inego Montoya, "I hate waiting."
This hasn't exactly been my favorite year. But it certainly has been an educational one. The most important lesson I learned is, "Do your research". I can't guarantee that I wouldn't have moved back to the High Desert, but if I'd known beforehand that it would be so hard to get a decent-paying job, I may have swallowed my pride and considered some options. According to Stephen King, the only time you don't have to do research is before writing a story. He says, if you have a story in your head that requires research, write the story first, then research it for your second draft. Because when the story's published, no one's going to know that you didn't have your facts straight. (Pretty much what he said in, "The Writer's Handbook 2001".) Which is coincidental, because I'm writing a book, now. I don't know how long it's going to take me, or if it will be any good. But it's a story I've been rolling around in my head for most of the year and I'm finally putting it to paper. My goal is to be peddling it to publishers in early 2008, so we'll see.
Anyway, another thing I learned is that the people you look up to growing up can make ginormous mistakes, and it's entirely possible to be creeped out by them, later. A bummer, isn't it? 'Nuff said.
Yet another lesson I learned in 2006 is not to worry so much about things. Bad things happen all the time, but there are good things that happen, too. When I look at all of the lousy things that happened, they're really not that bad. And who's to say things won't improve. Sure, I'm on the brink of getting my car repo'ed, but look at my profile. With 53 friends (two of them are actually the same person), I'm bound to be able to bum a ride off of somebody. And if not, well, I've still got my feet. I've been wanting to get back into shape.
And finally, I learned that you should avoid getting hit in the face when you have a pointy stick in your mouth. Look out, Hollywood! I'm working on my comeback, one emergency room visit at a time!
I learned more lessons than this, but like you're going to want to read even more. Maybe I'll make an abbreviated list?

A Haiku

Originally posted on MySpace blog on 12/18/06:

I saw two old friends
When I was at work, today.
Babies are stinky.

... Thank you.

I know! I'll write about how stupid I am!

Originally posted on MySpace blog on 11/21/06

All right. Clearly, it's a good thing I'm not breeding yet.
Last night at rehearsal, I decided to start dressing up in my costumes. Dress-rehearsals start next week, but we were told we could start now if we wanted to. So, one of my first costume changes is into a snowman, complete with top hat and corn-cob pipe. My character, Felicity, is clumsy and not taken entirely seriously because she's the youngest. At one point in the scene where I am the snowman, one of the characters-- who's dressed as Santa-- whacks me with a bag of toys a knocks me to the ground.
Do you see where I'm going with this? I'll elaborate.
This was the first rehearsal I'd used the corn-cob pipe in. I'd actually just bought it, yesterday, for $3.00 (I'm so proud that I paid so little). In every rehearsal to that point, Santa had been smacking me in the face with the toy sack because, let's face it, that's funny.
Okay, you see where I'm going with this now, right? It's common sense to avoid getting hit in the face when you have a pointy something in your mouth. Children aren't usually taught this in school or anything, but it's sort of understood. It's stupid to get smacked in the face when there's a pointy stick in your mouth.
Well, that's not what I was thinking about at the time. I'm not sure what I was thinking, actually. It was probably something along the lines of, "I hope this looks funny." Sigh...
So, Santa smacks me in the face, and I fall like I'm suppose to. Before I fall, the pipe shoots all the way to the back of my throat. At the time, I thought the back of my tongue stopped it. I say, "I don't think that's going to work," and promptly start crying. The whole cast starts comforting me and asking if I'm going to be alright. I blubber that I'll be fine and that I always cry when I get hit in the face. One of my cast members comforts me with sarcasm.
"I love getting hit in the face. Sometimes I pay people to hit me in the face." She says.
Santa feels just awful, but I assure her that it's my fault, because I should have realized that wasn't a good idea. We reblock the scene so that Santa whacks me in the chest, and I don't even have the pipe in my mouth by that time.
We go through rehearsal with my throat sore. The whole time, I'm assuming I have a welt on my tongue. It wasn't until I came home and tried to show it to my mom, when she shrieked and informed me I had a hole in the back of my throat. I went into the bathroom, saying "No I don't", and looked in the mirror. Sure enough, there was a hole the size of the mouth-piece of the pipe in the back of my throat. I promptly said, "Oh, I do."
So we looked online to see what action to take next. WebMD was down for updating, so I went on ask.com and typed in, "puncture wound to the back of the throat." I immediately got a link to a site that said the wound had to be treated within 6-8 hours after it occured (or else, I could get bad infections, like encephalitis or other scary things). So it was off to the emergency room.
Fortunately, most people had not been as stupid as I had and we got in right away. The doctor looked at the wound, I had x-rays taken, I recieved a shot of antibiotics in my butt (which is still sore, by the way), I was given a ten-day prescription of antibiotics and sent home. They told me that the inside of the mouth heals quickly and on it's own, so I should be fine.
I don't have health insurance, so they had me file paperwork for county aid. If I'm refused by the county, the hospital has a payment program for me. So, yes, I'm looking for a new or second job. I don't feel so bad about my lack of finding employement over the course of this year. There was a story in Sunday's paper about how there are just over 161,000 working people living in the High Desert, and just over 51,000 jobs for all of them, and those numbers keep rising, because more and more people keep moving here. So, as long as I can justify the gas I may look down the hill, again. We'll see.

Most things in life don't go according to plan, anyway

Originally posted on MySpace blog on 11/4/06:

This week was an interesting week. I was kind of frustrated at how things have turned out, but that's sort of the norm for me. I was stressed over spending money to make my Halloween costume work. I was a fairy with green hair and purple wings. I took pictures, but I am not a fan of the Photobucket (because it takes, like, half a day to load one picture) and I've forgotten my password. The pics shall be posted, but I'm not making any promises as to when. Also, once I figure out how to do that, I'm going to erase and replace my current pics, as they're directly from my computer and the only ones I can fit onto my pics page.
Anyway, onto that whole money thing. How can I describe this without being too blunt about the situation? Say you're a mermaid and you want to make a pearl necklace, as mermaids are oft to do. You need 100 pearls to make a decent necklace. Every day for a month, you help King Neptune keep the currents going the way their supposed to and you keep up with your sailor-drowning quota. At the end of the month, the king pays you only 4 pearls. Also, each month, the loan sharks take three of those pearls away, leaving you only one pearl a month. You soon figure it out that you may never make that necklace as long as you work for King Neptune. So you make your plans to get yourself into a better situation. You're not entirely sure how that's going to come about, but you're optimistic. In the mean-time, you're still just drowning sailors.
Well, that's basically how I've been feeling for a while, now. Except, I'm not underwater and I'm not actually killing anyone. Otherwise, it's almost the exact same thing. Almost.
Rehearsals for the play are going pretty well. We need to be off-book for the first act by Monday. I'm starting to get critical about the play, but I'm mostly keeping it to myself. It's not anything terrible, just little things. Most likely, those things will fix themselves once we're off-book.
Well, I think that pretty much covers things, for now.

Guess what's premiering tonight?

Originally posted on MySpace blog on 10/4/06:

Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost!

Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost!

Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost!
Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost!

Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost!

Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost!

Oh, yeah, and I dyed my hair back to brunette. Also, I made it into that play. I'll post info on my page when I have it all. If you're in the area, you should come see it. It'll be funnier than, um, lots of things.

I have to admit, it's getting better.

Originally posted on MySpace, 9/21/06:

Just a little update to let you know that things are actually okay. A few weeks ago, my mom had shoulder surgery. Her shoulder had gotten so bad ("how bad was it?"), that if they hadn't opperated fairly soon, we may have had to nick-name her "Lefty". I am not even kidding, it was apparently very bad, but she's doing fine, now. She's going to be in physical therapy for a while, and I am now her chauffer. You know, I don't mind it so much. I thought we'd drive each other crazy, but we're getting along pretty well. The oddest thing has been happening when we do piss each other off: we talk it out. I know! Strange though it may seem, it actually works. So that's cool.
Also, I think I have a decent shot at getting into a play. This would completely rock, as the production sounds like loads of fun and it would be my first time acting in, like, six years. For about a week, I haven't been looking for a job. You know what? A place I interviewed with called me this morning and offered me a job. It meets all of my requirements (a. It pays me with a check, and b. I don't have to worry about getting seriously injured there). And then I got a call from another place that I'd like to work at for an interview. I told them I'd accepted a job, but they told me if it didn't work out that I could give them a call.
So I'm not going to push it and say that things are turning around, but they certainly seem to be going in a good direction. Soon, I can start paying bills and go to the salon, where I think I may become a brunette, again. Because, honestly, I haven't had more fun as a blonde. It's also hard to keep up when you're broke. It's been like ten weeks since I've colored my hair. I'm starting to look like a brunette with a lousy at-home highlight job.

Hello?... Anybody there?...

Granted, it's been a long time since I've posted here. If anyone actually reads my posts anymore, I'm sorry for neglecting you. The truth is, I've been posting solely on MySpace. I said I wasn't going to do that, but I've up and done it. I'm not going to abandon this blog, because it was my first, and I don't know if can actually abandon it. I think it'll just float forever in virtual reality, like some non-existant space junk. So what I'm going to start doing is double posting. For ever blog post I put on my MySpace blog, I'll put here, too. I know, it's not nearly as personal, and it's the epitome of redundancy, but it's the best thing I can think of at the moment.
I'll also post a link to my MySpace page. Even if you're not a member, I think you can pretty much look at it. So I'll just post my past blog post from there and date them, and then I'll just double-post in mostly-real time from then on.